


Bloody, Bruised, and Broken, but Still Beautiful

by Jennsepticeye (orphan_account)



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Drowning, F/M, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 19:45:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17855801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Jennsepticeye
Summary: You and El Diablo are both idiots stuck in Belle Reve with fire powers,





	Bloody, Bruised, and Broken, but Still Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reposting all my fics from Tumblr here, and then orphaning them and deleting my blog. I don't want them to be forgotten for those who enjoyed them, so I'm posting them here.
> 
> If you want to track my down on tumblr now, my user name is @jennsepticeye

When Chato Santana turned himself in and then was shipped off to Belle Reve, he made a promise. He vowed not to let anyone in. People he let in always got hurt, without fault. Even when she was shoved into the cell with him, battered and bruised. He brushed her off, ignoring her attempts at conversation and staying silent. Still she spoke with him, one sided conversations that filled the echoing silence. He didn’t hate her though, he was afraid. Afraid of himself and what he could do. She didn’t give up though. That just wasn’t who Y/N L/N was.

“You have a problem with me or something?” She asked one day. “’Cause I’m trying here. We’re gonna be stuck in here for who knows how long and I’m trying my hardest to make the best of it.” She was frustrated and it was then Chato realized why she was on here with him. Not because they had run out of cells or because it was some form of cruel punishment. It was because she was cursed, same as him. Born with the devil’s gift. Too late he realized what was happening and the guards flooded the cell.

“Hold your breath. Two minutes. Now.” He spoke quickly, taking a deep breath and disappearing under the frigid water. She followed but a second after. One hundred twenty seconds passed, burning their lungs until they were left coughing on the wet rusty floor.

“What the fuck was that?” She grumbled, spitting out more water onto the floor.

Chato tried his best to stay away after that, cursed or not he was a danger to her, but he found himself slipping up. Smiling at her bed jokes and nodding along with her one sided conversations. Unintentionally pushing Y/N to try harder, to better try to get to know the mysterious man. There were days when he consciously pushed her away, gave her the cold the cold shoulder, but there were also days when wondered if it was worth it, and days that he didn’t think about it, getting too close without realizing. Involuntarily the cold shoulder days became less and less frequent until he found himself engaging in her conversations. She came to appreciate the sound of his voice when he did speak and he was grateful that he wasn’t alone anymore.

It was raining the first day he let her touch him. It was cold, not that either of them noticed, and once again they found themselves sitting across from each other, talking about whatever came up. The gloomy weather lead to conversations sadder than usual. It was that day he told her about his family, how when he was angry things happened that he couldn’t control. Things that he would always regret. He was staring blankly out the window, eyes glassy. She smiled sadly and moved so she was sitting next to him. Chato sucked in a breath as her arm went around his shoulder, the first time someone other than a cop or guard had touched him in ages. He was scared, terrified of hurting her. After a moment he let out his breath and laid his head on her shoulder. There was no need to say anything.

He knew he was fucking everything up, getting to close but damn it felt good. He didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t stop. Everything she did was fascinating, the way she talked, the way she didn’t. The way she said his name, not Diablo, Chato. It was insane how well she could read him, knowing when he wanted to talk and when he needed to be left alone. She knew when it was okay to lay on the sorry excuse for a bed next to him or if she should sleep on the floor. They were like two pieces of a puzzle, peas in a pod… or something.

It was raining the day he died. He was still breathing, conscious and everything that technically qualified as living, but something had changed. It was one of those days where he just needed to sit and think, so she let him. A clap of thunder at the opposite end of the compound shocked him to a realization, the one that killed him. He realized why he let her touch him, why every time she was taken he worried for her. He realized why he let her use his real name and why he stupidly let himself get too close.

Joder!

Mierda!

He loved her. Chato Santana had fallen in love with Y/N L/N. El Diablo had fallen for the Angel of Fire. He wiped away the stray tear that was making its way down his cheek, sucking in a breath through his teeth. She watched him from the other side of the cell, eyes filled with concern.

“You okay, Chato?” She asked

“Si, I’m good.” He nodded. She was skeptical but let it go. He took a deep breath, silently cussing himself once more. He was naive and alone and let himself do something he swore he wouldn’t. It was raining the day he realized he was in love.

That night he found himself looking at her through tired eyes at a time well past when he should have been asleep. She was sleeping though, laying on the slab next to him. She was relaxed and her face was the visage of peacefulness and contentment. Chato looked upon her like she was a masterpiece so artfully crafted by expert hands. She yawned, rousing from whatever dreamland she had been occupying, her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him with furrowed brows. Chato hadn’t even realized he was crying until Y/N’s soft hands wiped the tears from under his eyes.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked, sleep slurring her voice. He didn’t answer for a few seconds, holding her gaze. Laying face to face with him was a woman whose skin was just as hot as his, someone he wasn’t constantly afraid of hurting, and she was worried about him. So he did something he might regret later but at this point he decided it honestly didn’t matter. It was worth it. In a second he ghosted his lips over hers. He stayed there for a moment, waiting for her to push him away, but she didn’t. In fact she closed the sliver of distance between and kissed him.

They kissed in a gesture so meaningful and intimate that it caused a flurry of butterflies in Y/N’s stomach. Their eyes fluttered shut, getting lost in the moment. She kissed back with just as much emotion as him, as much love, because somewhere between the near drownings and the silent days she had fallen for him too. They understood each other in a way no one else could fathom.

“I…” He couldn’t find the words after they pulled apart.

“I know.” She whispered, smiling. “I love you too.” Her voice was barely audible. His heart soared as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder before curling up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and he sighed contentedly. As she fell asleep he replayed her words in his head over and over again until he realized something.

It was raining the night Chato Santana realized, nearly a year after Y/N had been dumped in his cell, that he wasn’t alone anymore.


End file.
